


Out of Feathers, Out of Bones

by valamerys



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Fluff, Letters, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Slow Burn, WE DESERVE SOME GENTLE ELUCIEN IN THIS TRYING TIME, acowar spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valamerys/pseuds/valamerys
Summary: Elain travels Prythian learning to accept her new life and powers, but better than any glittering court is her tentative correspondence with her mate. [epistolary fic]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH (UGLY SOBBING)

Lady Elain,

 

I hope this letter finds you well. And I also hope it isn’t overly presumptuous of me to send this at all. I wrote to Feyre a month ago, telling her I’d be longer in the spring court than I planned; They need all the assistance they can get reorganizing after the war.  ~~ Is it right to call it a war when it lasted less than a month? The extended skirmish. No, sorry, that makes it sound silly, and the death toll was ~~

I’ve already restarted this letter four times, and Tamlin does not possess an unlimited supply of stationery, so I’m going to keep going. My apologies for that babbling and any in the rest.

Feyre mentioned in her reply that you’ve gone to the Winter Court with Mor, to visit Kallias’s new wife and her sister. She suggested I write to you; I told myself I wouldn’t, and managed to hold out for a whole two days. So, finally arriving at the purpose of this letter, I wanted to ask: I’ll be returning to Velaris in another three weeks.  ~~ Will I see y ~~ ~~ When are you ~~ What about you? And how are you finding the Winter Court? It’s a bit too cold for my tastes, even with the fire powers.

Give my regards to Mor, and to Kallias.

Lucien

 

* * *

 

 

Lucien,

Feyre told me you might write! I’m glad you did. (She also told me you were worried about me. That’s very sweet of you. I know we didn’t get much time to talk after the battle, but I really am much better than I was when you left for the continent.)

I’m afraid I don’t know when I’ll be back from the Winter Court. Mor, as much as she adores Viviane, is eager to end her vacation and return to sort out the Court of Nightmares, but I’m here for a different purpose. Kallias and Viviane have a Seer in their court, a woman by the name of Orianna; she’s lovely, and very generously teaching me how to better handle the visions and hone my power. Did you know there are different kinds of crystals that help Seers with different kinds of visions? And ones that help with the side effects. The best Seers can even use them to project their visions for others to see!

I’m sorry, I must be boring you. I’m still not adjusted to how very old High Fae get to be; you must know everything by your age.

In any case, the Winter Court is also a great deal of fun; Viviane taught me how to ice skate! And if I thought it would be happy anywhere but Winter, there’s a very sweet little polar bear cub I’d bring back to Velaris with me, when I eventually go. (The grown polar bears are quite fierce. They rather remind me of Nesta. Don’t tell her I said that.)

I hope Spring is treating you well! I would like to see it some day, if only for the flowers.

Elain Archeron

 

P.S.  Kallias says hello in return. (Although what he actually did, finding out we're writing to each other, was laugh until Viviane elbowed him in the ribs.)

 

* * *

 

 

Lady Elain,

I’m glad to hear you’re having a good time in the Winter Court, but I assure you, I am far from knowing everything, even at three hundred and fifty-seven. (If it’s any consolation, I’m not considered very old by High Fae standards. An old tutor of mine, the oldest Faerie I’ve ever met, was pushing six thousand, and High Fae may not physically age as humans do, but the male looked like he was a sneeze away from crumbling into dust.)

Spring is very much recovering from the War, in terms of both infrastructure and politics, but it’s fine. Not very long ago I would never have dreamed of leaving it, but now I have no desire to stay. The Night Court isn’t my first relocation choice, to be honest, but Rhys and Feyre are good rulers as well as friends, and I could do much worse than making myself useful to them for a while.

Speaking of Feyre, I have a confession to make.  ~~ I am ~~ I was worried about you—not because of the way you were when I left for the Continent, but because of what Feyre told me happened with your former fiance while I was away. I wanted to tell you: I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that. And I’m sorry for the part I played in the conversation, however unwittingly. It’s terrible enough to lose someone you love; I can’t imagine what it’s like to experience cruelty like that from them as well.

Feyre also told me you like tending plants, and plan on starting a garden at the townhouse when you eventually return.

Before I leave the Spring Court, are there any seeds you’d like me to bring with me to Velaris for you to plant in it? You’re right about the flowers here being stunning,  and ~~i thought I could help you with the~~ ~~ I don’t know what Velaris has in the way of foliage, so ~~  I thought you might want some of your own.

Lucien

 

P.S. Don’t worry, I would never, ever dream of telling Nesta she in any way resembles a polar bear. I only have one eye left and I’d like it to stay in my head.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucien,

The joke about your eye made me laugh so loudly I startled a flock of icebirds out on the lawn. Should I return to the Night Court any time soon, I promise to defend you from Nesta’s sharp nails!

The offer to bring me seeds is very thoughtful, thank you. I was worried no Spring Court plant would grow in Velaris, chilly as it is, but Feyre has said she’ll find me access to a greenhouse, so the climate difference is no object—still, I hardly know what to ask for. Prythian has a much larger array of life than the human realm did! Why don’t you bring me a handful of seeds of whatever flower is your favorite?

I appreciate your sympathy, but please don’t apologize for anything Graysen said, none of it was your fault. And really, it was for the best; better to have gone through it and discovered his capacity for cruelty now rather than after I’d married him. Nesta always says this when we talk about it, and I know she’s right. But still hurts more than I could have imagined it would. And, maybe worst of all, it makes me feel like a terrible fool: how can I still be in love with him, when he said those things to me? But I am. And I know if he showed up tomorrow, apologized on his knees, and asked me to have him, I would, even knowing his father might kill me, even knowing he’s human and I’m not. I know it will pass, that I’ll eventually stop missing him, stop feeling like an impostor for going out and laughing with Mor and Viviane when part of me feels like a dead, heavy weight. I just wish it would pass faster. I still haven’t taken off his ring. It feels like if I do, I admit that he’s really never going to come back for me. And I know he’s not, I know that, but still, my heart can’t take it.

I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear any of this.

Please don’t feel obligated to respond if I’ve made you uncomfortable.

Elain

 

* * *

 

 

Elain, 

~~ I wish ~~

~~ I’m sorry ~~

~~ I’m glad you ~~

Please, please don’t feel bad for talking about Graysen. I want nothing but to help you in any way I can. If that means you writing an entire book about Graysen and having me read it, I’d do it happily.

I don’t know if Feyre has told you, but I lost a fiance too, once. A very long time ago.  ~~ Her name was ~~ ~~ She was ~~ The circumstances were different, of course, but—I understand some part of your pain. And again, I’m so sorry. No one should have to go through that.

For whatever it’s worth, it… really does get better. I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re tired of hearing that. Grief doesn’t ever really go away, but time lessens it, makes it bearable, makes it so that it’s light enough to carry around, and eventually, ignore. Don’t be hard on yourself if the process is slow, and tell me if there’s anything I can do to help you, ever.

Also, It turns out that under pressure I have no idea what my favorite flower is, and so in what is probably a lapse in decision-making, I brought you an entire suitcase of bags of different kinds of seeds. Rhys seems to wonder if I’ve left part of my sanity on the Continent.

Take care of yourself. And if you feel so inclined, let me know how your Seer studies are going; my knowledge of crystals is woefully deficient. 

Lucien

 

* * *

 

 

Lucien,

You’re very kind. Thank you for your sympathies, and your offer to help. I’m really alright, usually, but some days are harder than others. And I’m sorry for your own loss— Feyre told me a little about it, but I was glad to hear it from you. 

(And thank you also for the seeds! Although I hope poor Rhys doesn’t think I intend to completely overrun his court with flowers.)

My studies are going well! We’ve gone from merely managing my visions to increasing my temporal range; right now I can only see a few weeks into the future, at best, but Orianna says with my ability I should be able to look across decades once she’s done with me. Of course, everything is still very sporadic; Seeing is not an exact science to begin with, and I exhaust myself quickly when I try too hard to make it one. But in general, it’s exciting, to start to feel ownership of my power. For so many weeks all I wanted was to be rid of it, but I’ve seen the good Orianna does in her court, and it gives me a sense of purpose to know I can do the same.

How is Velaris treating you, now that you’re back? I hope Nesta hasn’t been too unkind.

Elain

P.S.

I’ve deliberated whether to say this in every letter I’ve sent you, and I finally have the courage to ask. Do you feel me? The way I feel you? There’s the strangest sensation in my chest, especially when I wake up and fall asleep, and I… think it’s you. I think I feel you on the other side of it.

I’m so sorry, having written it, that was a strange and inappropriate thing to say. I still don’t quite comprehend the idea of mates, or bonds. I must sound like a child to you, ignorant as I am about it. But this is all new to me, and a little frightening, and as much as I speak to Viviane and Feyre about it… the nature of this connection, I suppose, is that the only one who can really help me understand... is you.

Please write soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, look what fuckin updated. it's a christmas miracle

Dear Elain,

Please forgive me the time it took me to respond to you. I wanted to be thorough and sure of my answer, and, frankly, I’m still not. But I am immeasurably glad you feel you can talk to me about the mate bond. ~~We should talk about the~~   ~~I want you to talk to me about the~~  I promise, I would never think you ignorant for any question you have about it— it’s strange to me too. I wish I had more answers to give you, though. No one knows why mates are paired. They’re not soulmates; most don’t live in romantic harmony— Although some do, and now that I’m back in Velaris, I’m rather aggressively exposed to that fact. I wish I didn’t live in a house that I assume Rhysand and Feyre have had sex in every inch of. But I’m getting off topic. There is also a theory that mates are paired based on maximizing the power of potential biological offspring, but there are same-sex mate bonds, and incidences of mated fae unable to reproduce, so that idea doesn’t hold much water. Rhys has a pet theory about mates being “equals,” which sounds lovely but doesn’t really mean anything concrete, so far as I can tell, beyond sending Rhys into a half-hour long soliloquy about how much he loves Feyre and how their love has transcended and etc etc.

I’m sorry. I’m sure Feyre and Viviane have told you all this; you asked me something more specific.

Yes, I feel you through the bond. ~~All the time~~  It was strange getting used to, though I’m sure it was not a fraction so strange for me as it was for you. Meeting you and feeling the… source, so to speak, helped. At the risk of overstepping my boundaries, I would tell you that I find it comforting, sometimes— especially at night. I have trouble with bad dreams; being able to feel you, safe, calm, helps. I wish I could repay that to you somehow.

I hate the idea that it frightens you instead. What can I do? There are ways of… blocking the bond, or minimizing it, if that would help you. ~~They’re painful and difficult but if that’s what you want, I would gladly~~     ~~Alright, the ‘gladly’ is a lie, but~~ ~~,~~      ~~cauldron boil me i have got to stop doing this~~

I don’t know how to end this. You’re not the only one who finds it difficult to talk about these things, believe me, but we should and I want to. Please, please tell me if there’s anything I can do, or if there’s any questions you have. Ever.

Lucien

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Elain,

I completely forgot that you also asked me how Velaris is now that I’ve returned, so I’m sending a second consecutive letter. Very stupid of me, but I’d be remiss not to tell you.

The Night Court is doing quite well, for everyone but me. In a double dose of insult, Cassian has decided my combat training is not up to Illyrian standards and has taken it upon himself to frequently kick my ass, and Rhys has decided my political skills are best put to use cleaning up his subterranean library, the lower levels of which were apparently wrecked in some fight. It’s either a ploy to get Nesta to kill me, or attempt to make us friends, as the library is where she spends much of her time too. Either way, your defense would be welcome, should you return to the night court any time soon. Don’t hurry, of course— your lessons with the Winter Court Seer sound like they’re doing you a world of good, and I’m glad of it.

Lucien

 

P.S. I was in the bowels of the library, and had just put down the pen from writing this letter, when a mysterious voice asked what I was writing. I admit I about jumped out of my skin. After some investigation, it would seem that this is a library-dwelling monster of Feyre’s, named Bryaxis, which she did not deign to warn me about. After FURTHER investigation and some indignation on my part, it would appear that Feyre is using me to fulfil her bargain with this creature, who wants, of all things, someone to spend time with. When I asked her why SHE couldn’t do it, Rhysand very conveniently appeared with a half a dozen “high lady” tasks for her to complete. Here’s another fact about the mate bond: mated pairs who are also partners in crime are insufferable.

Anyway, If I stop writing, please assume this monster has eaten me and yell at Feyre on my behalf.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucien,

Oh dear, I’m very sorry to hear about your library situation! I’ve written to Nesta and asked her to be nice to you, and to maybe spend time with Bryaxis so you’re not the only one. I’d write to Feyre and scold her for treating you like that but… you’re not wrong, peacetime has made her and Rhys into a couple of hooligans. (I mean that affectionately. Mostly.)

I don’t mean to dismiss your long thoughts on the mate bond by not writing any of my own in response. I am still thinking about things, and need time to decide what I feel before I’m comfortable writing it down. But I appreciate your words very much. In regards to my use of the word “frightened” that distressed you, you have helped alleviate that somewhat; whatever the cauldron’s reasoning for pairing us, it surely must intend to make our lives better, not worse, and if it is doing that for at least one of us by making your nightmares easier to stand, then the bond can’t be a truly bad thing. (I am very sorry, by the way, about your nightmare trouble.)

For the time being, I have no wish to do any of the things you mentioned about weakening the bond, or anything like that. I assume such a procedure would be magical, and I’ve had enough of strange, ancient magics to last me a very long time. But it was very decent of you to offer when I know that’s not really what you want.

I’m sorry, that sounds dour. Really, I’m quite happy! No need to worry about me!

Elain

 

P.S. I almost forgot—Orianna wants to take me to the Summer Court to continue my training. Apparently they have a crystal cave there that can magnify Seer powers, and Feyre has arranged for us to spend some time with High Lord Tarquin while we’re there too. (I think she thinks I can soften him up where the Night Court is concerned— he’s still a little peeved at Rhys for what happened with that book, even if he’s taken the blood rubies back.) Winter is lovely, but I’m excited to go somewhere warm! I’ve noted the places we’ll be staying on the back of this letter, so you know where to send things as we travel. We leave next week!

 

* * *

 

 

Dear Elain,

Regarding the bond, I want whatever you want. You’ve been hurt by this far more than me, had far more taken from you. It’s the least I can do to do everything in my power to accommodate your wishes. But if I may ask for one thing, please be honest with me about how you’re doing. It would take a miracle to truly be happy or well-adjusted in your situation, given all that’s happened, and I hate to think that you might be lying about your own feelings to spare mine. If you can’t talk about it, I completely understand— just, please don’t tell me anything untrue.

It turns out that Bryaxis isn’t so bad. In some ways, he’s a better conversationalist than Rhys. He likes to hear stories of my life in other courts, and fortunately, three hundred odd years of political experience has given me plenty to tell. ~~I've told him all about y~~  You would like him. And I appreciate your attempted defense of me from Nesta, although it’s possible it had the opposite effect; she is, as ever, hostile. Perhaps if you told her that you dislike me and have no interest in speaking to me ever again, she might relent? Though that might backfire. Nevermind.

The Illyrians, at least, have warmed up to me. Cassian entertains himself by coming up with vaguely insulting fox-themed nicknames for me during training, and Azriel wordlessly accepts my presence, which seems to be the best anyone achieves with him. I have started naming some of his more distinctive shadows. He initially objected to “Fluffy” and “Lord Shadowkins” but I’m working on it.

It’s clever of Feyre to send you to Tarquin on Night’s behalf—no one could possibly stay angry with you plying them. Tell me how you like the Summer Court; I look forward to hearing more about your training and future likely sunburn.

Lucien

 

* * *

 

 

Lucien,

At first, I was a little angry about your request to be honest with you— I hadn’t thought of myself as lying, per say, so you pointing out that I was made me defensive. But you’re right. I’ve always tried to be the chipper one in my family, the one who was fine and happy and hopeful no matter how hungry we were, I suppose it’s no wonder I’ve begun to do it again. So, the truth: yes, I’m still unhappy. And very sad about Graysen. I suppose it’s getting better, but it’s hard to tell when you do so, so well for three days and then think about him on the fourth and suddenly feel so sad you’ve made no progress at all. Does that make sense? I don’t know. Since the war, everyone has been so kind to me that it seems ungrateful to have any complaints. But I’ve told you in the past that I am beginning to appreciate my powers, and that is true, even though they are sometimes disorienting. I'm glad to be going on this trip; I hope it will give me clarity in addition to increased control over my magic. (Perhaps that is a bit much to ask of what amounts to a beach vacation, but so be it.)

In any case, Orianna and I are in Summer now. We’re staying with an old friend of hers at their estate; we leave for the cave tomorrow and hope to spend a few days there. Kallias was kind enough to send an escort/ guard along, so the three of us are a little band of travellers. I suppose this is obvious, but it’s very hot here. I don’t think I will ever get used to wearing trousers, as Feyre has, but I’ve had to adapt to lighter, shorter skirts. (Goodness, everyone in this court shows so much skin. They must think me a terrible prude.) Speaking of skin, your comment about sunburn has made me very vigilant about protecting mine just to prove you wrong; the Summer Court is no match for large hats and spelled sun lotions! 

Above all else, I am happy to be in a place where things grow again. The thing I miss most from my human life—Graysen not withstanding—is my garden; as lovely as the Winter Court is, nowhere so unforgiving could ever be my home. Of course, I have no idea what "home" really means anymore; the Night Court is Feyre's home, not mine. I assume I'll eventually return to live their in some kind of permanence, but this trip is reminding me that I don't have to... the world is so big, now. I hardly know what to do with it.

I'm sure you of all people understand.

We have so many serious things to talk about, but your letters always make me laugh. Thank you for that. Please tell Azriel I strongly support the names “Fluffy” and “Lord Shadowkins” and would also submit for consideration “Boots,” “Snowball,” and “Midnight.”

Elain

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN UPDATE BC I LOVE MY SENSITIVE BABIES

Dear Elain,

Azriel sends his regards. So do his shadows Fluffy, Lord Shadowkins, Boots, Lord Shadowkins Jr., Snowball, Midnight, Rhysand’s Ego, Lord Shadowkins the III, Emile, Marigold, Fork, and Abernath Simon, Esquire. (Rhysand’s Ego was so named because he was the largest shadow of the bunch. Cassian wanted to name it after a certain appendage of his, but Azriel put his foot down on that one. Emile was the one Mor named. The rest were a collaborative effort.)

But in regards to the rest of your letter, thank you, truly, for being honest with me. I know how painful that kind of sincerity can be— I spent many years running from it myself, and still do on occasion— so I don’t take it lightly. Does it help if I tell you it gets better? I think I’ve said that before. But it hurts to read your sadness not only out of sympathy, but because it feels like reading something I could have written myself, years and years ago. Be kind to yourself, since I’m not there to be. This process is messy and I know it seems like it will last forever, but it won’t.

You’re not wrong; everything we talk about is either completely ridiculous or terribly depressing. And as eager as I am to subject you to endless terrible jokes and divulge personal traumas, (please don’t take that as sarcasm, I am absurdly happy to do both those things) I’m curious to know mundane things about you, if you would indulge me. Do you like to read? Do you prefer the forest or the ocean? Are you more afraid of heights or spiders? What foods do you like? What’s your favorite flower?  ~~ What features do you appreciate in men? (Do you only appreciate men?)  ~~

I keenly feel your aimlessness as far as a lack of “home.”  Though so far everyone but Nesta seems fairly amused by my presence, I’m sure I’ll wear out my welcome here in Velaris sooner or later. Maybe I’ll attempt to visit my mother when that happens— my father has his tail between his legs after the war, I can’t imagine he’d present any trouble I can’t handle. If they do, I could always bring Cassian as a bodyguard; I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to sharpen his knives in Eris’s direction.

Ideally, I’d like to settle in some other, new court and bring my mother with me. With the dubiously ethical amounts of money Rhys’ band of idiots, which I’m now a part of, throw around, certainly the financial aspect would be no object. Although like you said, the world is so big it is hard to know where to start. The Day court is the only one I have never visited more than fleetingly, so perhaps there, in some lovely, sunny cottage.

I’m rambling, but in any case, I hope you’re enjoying the summer court. I don’t know if you’re there yet but Adriata is a beautiful city, I can only imagine you’ll adore it.

Yours, Lucien

 

* * *

  
  


Dear Lucien,

It’s so hard to decide what to write in these letters! I want to respond to every little thing you write, but then my return letter would be a hundred pages long. I will try to keep this short but can make no promises.

Thank you for your empathy, as always. Nesta tries not to show it but I can tell she’s growing exasperated in her letters when I bring up Graysen, now, and Feyre and I were never close enough to talk about these things. It means so much to me not only that you encourage me to, but that to some degree you understand. Thank you.

I will happily answer your questions! Though it’s unfair of you to not to have answered the same about yourself; surely you don’t think me such a bad correspondent that I wouldn’t ask in return. (I mean this kindly of course. I am curious about you too!) Let me do it in list form:

  * I do like to read, but only fiction. Nesta has been very enamoured of dry political histories since we were Made, and Rhysand has been encouraging Feyre to read the works of philosophers (so his ramblings on morality have an audience, I’m sure) both of which I find terribly dull. I like adventure, perhaps because I spent so long being too shy to go on them myself, and also romance; I have a terrible weakness for romantic ballads and plays in particular.
  * I suppose I prefer the forest— beaches are lovely but I am happiest in the dirt.
  * I am not afraid of heights any more than any sensible person should be, and I detest the general fear of spiders! Spiders are our friends and always welcome in my garden. Of my sisters I was always the one who would scoop offensive bugs in my hands to let them outside unharmed. I am, however, often afraid of the dark.
  * I like all kinds of foods and am not particularly picky (although some of the deep sea creatures we’ve been served in the summer court have been a touch alarming) but I am terribly fond of sweets.
  * My favorite flower in the human realm was lavender, for the scent and color; I’m sure I will have to find a new one in Prythian, considering the diversity of plant life here!



I’ll answer the questions you’ve scratched out, too, because they made me giggle: 

  * I like looking at men who are tall and slender, generally. The overly muscled Illyrians my sisters prefer are handsome, but not quite to my tastes. Of course a nice face is the most important part; a pretty smile or elegant cheekbones goe quite a long way to making up anything unsatisfactory in body type, and nice eyes are a must. And eyebrows! A man with ugly, ragged eyebrows is not to be trusted. Of course it hardly matters what my preferences are when every single high fae is devastatingly attractive; it would be ridiculous to be choosy in the face of so much beauty. But of course, I am a woman, and so I must say that the most attractive qualities a man can possess are traits of personality: kindness and intelligence and confidence and soforth. Personally I admire when a person is adept at identifying and managing their own feelings, as well as those of others; that kind of sensitivity is a valuable skill in a relationship, and something only gained through maturity, I find. It is something I work hard on to develop in myself.



If I may be honest, it’s a trait you showed very early in our letters, and it did a great deal to assuage my worries about you.

  * I have only ever considered myself interested in men in the past, but since being Made I have wondered if I was being narrow-minded. Make of that what you will.



There! Now you have your answers. Please let me know if you have burning questions about my cat vs dog preferences or what kinds of tea I like. (I’m teasing. I thought your questions were sweet.) Of you, I have a curiosity to know what you think of each of the courts; you are so well-travelled, and I must decide where to go when I leave Summer. (Though if you would indulge me, I am curious to know in turn what you find attractive in partners, and whether you only like women.)

Regarding the status of my ongoing trip, we’ve reached the caves! Tomorrow Orianna and I will be leaving our things with the guard and spending three days fasting inside them; using them to magnify our powers and, she says, reach “an altered state of consciousness.” I am nervous about what I might see, but having such a force behind my powers is an exciting thought, too.

In a strange way, I like writing to you almost more than I would like getting to know you in person, although I would certainly like to do that too. Our bond has never belonged to us; since that first awful meeting everyone we know has seen fit to pass judgements and involve themselves, view our connection as a bargaining chip or a tool for punishment or a joke for their enjoyment or something to fear. Writing to you feels like a wonderful secret, something that’s only ours. I like that very much.

Elain

 

* * *

  
  


Dearest Elain,

I like it very much too.

Also, I would not in the slightest mind a hundred-page letter from you. I would fear for your wrist somewhat in that endeavor, however, so do what you must to be brief; I will have to sustain myself on missives of a reasonable length.

I am delighted to share what I think of the courts with you; I too shall try to be succinct but if there’s one you’d like to know more about, tell me and I’ll give more detail.

  * Spring Court: Exceedingly pretty, but Tamlin lives there, so, bad. Also, unusually high quotient of things that want to eat you, from carnivorous plants to goblins.
  * Winter Court: too cold for me, but excellent company as far as courtiers go, and very hospitable. I do wish they would wear colors other than white and silver, though; one starts to go blind in Kallias’s presence.
  * Day Court: Possesses a diversity of culture perhaps more marked than the other courts and has some very interesting open-air architecture. Visited only briefly so I can’t speak much to the people other than that they are all very tall and very pretty.
  * Fall Court: If one could somehow relocate every high fae and their miserable prejudices away from the fall court, it would be a wonderful place of unsurpassed forestry and rich tradition. Unfortunately, my family.
  * Summer court: Stunning, as you know. Also culturally and literally rich, technologically advanced, and socially progressive, because Tarquin is determined to put the rest of Prythian to shame, apparently.
  * Dawn court: Knows how to party. Thesan is a delight. And I’m personally grateful for their unique innovations in magical mechanics, of course.
  * Night Court: I still can’t wrap my head around how Rhys manages to govern essentially two separate courts, one of which was a complete secret until months ago, with little aid other than his five best friends. It’s all extremely strange, and makes the whole court fragmented, with many and widely varied local tertiary leaders. Of course Velaris is the sickeningly lovely gem in the metaphorical crown, but there seems to be a wide variety of civilization within its borders. I’m beginning to see more of it, now, as I’m finally making myself politically useful in helping Rhys exert control over some of his more independent city-states. (The library, you’ll be glad to know, is finally clean and repaired, though I still visit Byraxis.) Overall, the Night Court is annoyingly wealthy considering their main export appears to be Rhysand’s superiority complex.



It’s only fair that I answer your questions after you were such a good sport about mine. I like both men and women romantically, in about equal measure. If you can avoid judging me too harshly for it, I’d tell you that Rhys and I were actually involved, a very long time ago. We were as antagonistic to each other back then as we are now, if not more so, if you can possibly imagine it, so it was never anything serious. (Please don’t tell anyone— it’s not a secret per say, but I get the impression Rhys hasn’t told Feyre, and I would hate for you to be the one to accidentally introduce her to such a fact.)

As for what I find attractive… it would be hard to quantify. I consider myself attracted to whole persons, the harmony of personality and appearance, rather than individual features, although you have certainly listed some good ones. And I must confess a weakness to brown eyes. As for nonphysical traits: compassion, and the conviction to defend it. I have known too many cruel, selfish people and seen too much suffering to believe in anything other than the profound necessity of caring for others— particularly those at a disadvantage. 

I am completely charmed by all your answers, for the record. The fact that you equally develop in yourself and seek out emotional intelligence in your partners— and can articulate that— is dazzling me; I think at 22 I was just excited to find someone who would laugh at my jokes (which were even worse then than they are now). I’m beyond flattered and pleased that it’s a trait you think you recognize in me. And I know I already, in a fashion, responded to it, but you’re right— in a way, we’re reclaiming the privacy I wish we’d always had.  ~~ I’m glad ~~ ~~ I want  ~~ ~~ We have so much ~~

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours, Lucien

 

~~ P.S. When can we m ~~

 

* * *

  
  


Dear Lucien,

Perhaps I am not finished mourning Graysen, but I have made peace with the sacrifice of my humanity— it seems a small price to pay to live in such a vast and magical world, with all the time and privilege to explore it.

Everyone, even you, told me how lovely Adriata is, but I still wasn’t prepared. The seascape, the stunning architecture, the sheer opulence— how Rhys thinks his mountainside villiage can compare to this staggering richness of this place escapes me. And its lord matches it in every respect: Tarquin might be the most gracious, civilized fae I’ve yet met, and so generous both with his wealth and time; he spent an entire day away from his duties to show me the city, and, noting that my (at this point, travel-worn) night court clothes were ill-suited for the heat (and the company), purchased me an entire new wardrobe like it was nothing, taking into account my every taste. And he’s so clever, in addition to being a terribly fine dancer! 

Sorry for the short letter, but i scarcely have time to write! Tarquin is taking us to the opera tonight. Apparently it’s performed partly underwater! I can’t wait.

Elain

 

* * *

  
  


Dear Lucien,

I hate to send two letters in a row, but it’s now been a number of weeks without hearing from you, and this is so unlike you I’ve been worried. But I just received a letter from Nesta telling me you are “regrettably” (her word) in good health and by all accounts received my last letter, so… I’m sure you’re just busy. But if by any chance you’re not, and you haven’t written because I’ve offended you with the shortness of my last letter, please, please tell me— I would hate to have inadvertently hurt you, and I’d hate even more to not make amends for it.

For the record, since my Summer trip (now ended, with great success, I think, in winning Tarquin back to friendship with the Night court) Orianna and her guard have returned to winter; I will miss them, but Orianna says I’ve learnt enough to forge my own way with my powers without her help. I hope she is right.

As for myself, I’ve found myself in the Dawn court, in part per your recommendation. Rhysand arranged for my accommodations there and Thesan took it upon himself to invite me to dine with him and his mate; their happiness together has made me think of you.

Please write to assure me you are well, if nothing else.

Elain

 

* * *

  
  


Dearest Elain,

I’ve made a terrible mess of things. I do that a lot, don’t I?

The truth is that I was jealous. You spoke so highly of Tarquin, and you clearly had such a good time with him, and it made me realize I haven’t seen you in so many months, and that I’m far more attached to you than I should be.  ~~ And what if you do find someone else? Because you should, I want you to, I want you to be happy, you deserve the world and someone like Tarquin could give it to you. But it would ~~

I tried to swallow it, but every time I sat down to write to you, it came out sounding bitter, or paranoid, or possessive. So I just didn’t.

I’m terrified of telling you these things now. I know I have no claim to you, no right to feel this way, and the fact that I do anyway probably validates everything that frightened you about  me the mate bond. I can’t lie to you— I do hold some hope you could one day think on me romantically, and probably always will, until you tell me for certain otherwise. When it comes to you, I always have questions, and never answers. If I am honest, will I drive you to hate me, or worse, fear me? Can I truly be your friend if I can’t stand the thought of anyone else courting you? Is it selfish of me to even try, when my feelings are so much more complicated than pure friendship? Is it wrong of me, or even some kind of falsehood, to have such feelings based on these letters, when we’ve spent so little time together in reality? 

Your correspondence has meant so much to me and I hate that my own idiocy endangers it.

There is so much I want to ask you, but I am determined not to make this exchange a burden, not to ask of you any more than I must. The bond has caused you much more grief than me; it’s the least I can do to offer my own feelings honestly and with no expectations of reciprocation. Because I have not said it yet: I apologize for my petulance causing you worry, that was never my intention and it was cruel.

I would not blame you at all for not responding to this, but please, whatever thoughts of yours you wish to share with me, I am desperate to hear.

Yours, Lucien

 


End file.
